


"Peter Pan?  You Have GOT To Be Kidding Me!"

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:40:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: An independent investigation of whether to disband or at least realign the Special Forces teams has the team leaders on edge.  After a meeting with the psychologist undertaking that study, Garrison is left shaking his head in disbelief.  "Peter Pan???"   He had been called a lot of things during his lifetime; his men had been called a hell of a lot more.  But this was something new for all of them!  If Garrison and his men, indeed ALL the team leaders and their men were, as the annoying Dr. Garwood claimed, all "little boys - each a stubborn Peter Pan, refusing to grow up", who did that make Major Kingston - Tick-Tock, the crocodile?  And who did that make Dr. Garwood herself - Captain Hook?  She might have given that more thought, considering how well THAT turned out.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	"Peter Pan?  You Have GOT To Be Kidding Me!"

Major Kingston had heard of some interesting investigative studies being done in one of the side branches, found it interesting enough to make the acquaintance of - well, not Dr. Alan Cunningham, the Head of the Department, no - that would have caused too much speculation, too much chance of blow-back, and besides he doubted he'd get much support there. 

However, he had it on good authority that one or two of the psychologists in that rather vaguely described area were unsatisfied at the cautious approach Dr. Cunningham was taking, the restrictions being put on their activities. 

(The reason it was 'vaguely described' was that the letterhead, the signage on the doors and walls, even the designation on the individual name tags - those listed only the acronym - 'PIMPS'. And, while that perhaps showed either a woeful lack of judgment or lack of sense (maybe even a subconscious cry for help?) by the ones who came up with the idea, it DID provide a realm of amusement as the onlookers tried to decide just what those letters stood for. They seemed to run a wide gamut, from 'Psychological Impact re Military Personnel Study' to 'Personnel Impropriety and Military Protocol Stupidity' There were a few, including one or two of the team leaders, who insisted it wasn't really an acronym at all, merely an unexpectedly honest admission by those involved that they were, in fact, making their living off the exploitation of the hard-working backs (sic!) of those they victimized, um, 'studied', ie. the Special Forces and Special Ops teams.)

In any case, it seemed that Dr. Cunningham was in favor of taking the observational route - preferring to look on, gather information, study the data, come to his conclusions, and file his learned reports, but NOT predisposed to him or any of his group taking any action to personally 'remedy' what any 'sensible' person would feel should be corrected. 

Of those within the department who disagreed with that approach, the most outspoken was Dr. Laura Garwood, an attractive woman in her early thirties, a so-called prodigy in her field, and, from all accounts, an extremely ambitious individual. (While the first two were matters of indifference to Kingston, the last he considered quite promising.) 

Dr. Garwood had other ideas of how things should be handled, and those ideas included far more of an interventionist approach. 

In her opinion, Dr. Cunningham was on his way out as Head of the Department, at least he WOULD be, once the Powers That Be realized how much more could be accomplished doing things HER way. In fact, she saw no reason she should not only be the first female to head the department, but the overall youngest person to hold that title. That in reality the department had only existed for a few months was, to her mind, irrelevant to the general concept.

An initial approach by Major Kingston, a quick meeting of the minds, and Dr. Garwood rapidly stepped up her quest to meet, survey and understand the teams, their leaders, their structure, purpose and actions. 

From there, it was a quick trip to determining that Major Kingston had been right. There was something quite WRONG about those teams, and she was just the person to make things right! First Teamleader Ainsley, then Reynolds, followed by the Australian Micah Davis, fell under her scrutiny, and more determined than ever, she eventually made her way to the most talked-about teamleader of all, Lieutenant Craig Garrison.

The order for that initial meeting came at a most unwelcome time for Craig Garrison. He had other things to deal with, after all - 

.an upcoming mission; 

.a 'retrieve and return' request for that odd object that had so captivated his pickpocket; 

.a soothing of the Reverend Standish's injured sense of propriety following Casino's latest round of outrageously ribald ballads performed in the village square after an all-night spree, unfortunately just as the parishioners were headed in to early services; 

.Sergeant Major's stern admonishment that "cleanliness might be next to Godliness, Lieutenant, but don't know that there's all that much 'Godliness' going on during those showers, and it's not doing the water supply all that much good neither!";

.and - well - a few other things. 

Of course, he ALWAYS had other things to deal with, and there would NEVER have been a good time for this particular interference in his business. Still . . .

Feeling the more he knew about this Dr. Garwood, the psychologist he was supposed to be meeting with, the better, Lieutenant Craig Garrison had discreetly sought out others who had been in his same position under the microscope - other team leaders in Special Forces. 

Ainsley was pissed, it was easy to see. Well, so was Reynolds, and as for Micah Davis? Oi!!!! Garrison's ears were ringing from THAT diatribe - not that he knew precisely what Davis was SAYING, even though Garrison had some grounding in the more obscure paths the Australian's expressions could take, but the burly man's tone of voice, the volume of that voice and the expression of disgust on his face as he slammed his hand down on the table were self-apparent.

"Yes, whatever Davis here just said, Garrison. No, I didn't understand it either, really, but I'm sure it was most apt. It usually is, you know, if a little colorful. All I can say, if someone doesn't derail that pious she-devil, we're all going to be in the market for a new job and our men, YOUR men in particular, are going to be up shit creek!" Ainsley proclaimed, with the other two nodding glumly.

"Thinking of checking the docks, seeing if they still do any shanghai'ing anymore, and if they take females," Reynolds, usually the calm one of the bunch, said, shocking at least Garrison. "Could take up a nice collection, I'd imagine, just to sweeten the pot."

Garrison's jaw almost dropped; he knew they were pissed, but that seemed more than a little extreme!

"Yeah, look that way, Garrison. You haven't met her yet, had her focused on you and your team yet. Just you wait!" Ainsley swore, and the other two nodded grimly.

Well, then he HAD met her, and Reynolds' comment suddenly made a lot of sense. Not that he could countenance such a drastic move, yet, he did understand the temptation.

Dr. Garwood had done her homework, gotten access to files she perhaps should not have been allowed near (courtesy of Major Kingston), tapped into the grapevine, did some personal observation, and came up with a resounding set of conclusions. Some were accurate, if taken with an uncharitable slant - some were not so accurate - some were, well, not easily categorized. She prepared her file, determined on how to approach them, and then went to Major Kingston to get his assistance in that vital 'intervention', as she called it. 

Even Kingston was shocked at what she purported to have found out; no matter how he held that team in disdain, this was all really too, too much. Yes, the grapevine had made such allegations, but since he started a good deal of what was traveling that communication route, he knew better than to place too much credence in what showed up there. Still, if it were all true, it could simplify his life, his job tremendously!!! He let a wolfish smile appear briefly, before he forced his face into its usual professional aloofness.

So he made her a deal - he would help her set up that 'intervention', but she, in return, had to present solid proof of her accusations within thirty days. A deal was set, a firm handshake exchanged, and they parted company, both well-pleased with themselves and each other.

So there was a second meeting once Garrison and his men returned from their latest trip across the Channel. This time, though, the meeting was not just between Dr. Garwood and Craig Garrison, but her, Garrison, the entire team, AND Meghada O'Donnell.

It wasn't pretty. 

The meeting, the 'intervention' as the doctor insisted on calling it, was at the O'Donnell woman's cottage, specifically chosen by Major Kingston for some reason of his own, probably to create even more trouble, considering how he might have thought the Dragon would take such a turn of events.

Yes, a picture to behold - Dr. Garwood, Lieutenant Garrison, his four men, and the redhead who owned the place where the meeting took place - a redhead just back from a lengthy assignment and not even yet unpacked. 

Meghada had just hung up the phone, frowning in bewilderment to that terse message from London, when the knock came at the kitchen door. First Garrison and his men, then immediately on their heels, a woman in a tailored business suit, a woman she'd never seen before.

The Dragon (for she was still so keyed up, she had not yet transitioned into her slightly more benign persona) was STILL trying to figure out what the bloody hell was going on! Whatever it was, she wasn't thrilled about it, that was for sure. She'd been counting on a long hot soak in the tub and a nap, not a lecture!

That was especially true since the doctor took Meghada sternly to task right off the bat, though for just what and out of what motivation was rather more garbled and erratic than perhaps the doctor had intended. Something about that cold, hungry look she was getting, perhaps, along with that occasional slight raising of Meghada's lip, as if a snarl was only a breath away. 

By the time Dr. Garwood was finished, she had unconsciously placed herself with the table between her and the younger woman. 

Not that that would have helped much, if Meghada had made a move, but it seemingly let Garwood get her second wind, which she used to round on Garrison and one specific member of his team, and then on his team in its entirety.

"As for YOU two! You should be ashamed! Letting the war and your assignments serve as an excuse for such deplorable personal behavior! YOU are involved in the most selfish, self-destructive, co-dependent relationship under the guise of military necessity that I have ever seen!" the lovely raven-haired, blue-eyed but not-so-charming Dr Garwood proclaimed coldly, and both Garrison and Goniff tensed, flashing quick icy looks at the doctor. They'd been so careful, and there were no rumors floating around currently - at least no more than usual, and nothing specific. Yet, what else . . .

For some reason, though, she was looking at Actor, and then back at Garrison, not including Goniff in that harsh and disgusted proclamation at all. 

{"Interesting, that is. Seems she sees some things, maybe, but doesn't understand much of w'at she sees. Could be 'elpful, in one way or another,"} Goniff thought as he carefully weighed what the good doctor had spilled after her arrival. Seems she was taking Actor being Garrison's second-in-command in entirely the wrong light. Goniff wasn't sure if he was relieved or seriously pissed off, but he was tending toward the latter - it was almost insulting, if you really thought about it! 

{"The 'ell with 'almost', it ruddy well IS insulting! In fact, I've 'alf a mind . . . !"} but Meghada had seen that flash of resentment, the temper about to give way before Garrison had, and managed to spill some of the coffee she was pouring, distracting everyone including the doctor who got most of the spillage. By the time it was mopped up, both she and Garrison giving their pickpocket a quick 'stand down!' signal, all was more on an even keel, and the good doctor no more the wiser, as she patted fretfully at the damp spots on her sleeve and skirt and continued.

"The others, they are all little boys who are refusing to grow up, though don't think that description doesn't apply to you two as well! How you've managed to survive this far, any of you, I'm sure I don't know! It is only a matter of time before your obsessive involvement with each other, your personal feelings, will bring you all down! Let down the war effort too, if it's not put a stop to! 

"You are NOT their father, Lieutenant! They are not sweet little boys innocently enjoying their playtime in between school lessons and chores! They are military operatives supposed to be focusing on their jobs, not playing games or getting up to trouble together! Instead, you are, ALL of you, acting like over-sized Peter Pan's, strutting around declaring by your actions that you will 'never grow up and no one can make me either, so there!!' Thumbing their noses at authority, just like children!"

She brought forth episode after episode from their past missions, where they'd risked all for each other, going back for ones left behind, delaying exits til all could be retrieved, proving she had far more access to the records than they were comfortable with any outsider having. 

{"Probably more access than Richards and a few others would be comfortable with, too,"} Garrison thought. {"That could be useful."}

Somehow, their rueful awakening to their shortcomings, the abject abasement, the rapid and heart-felt apologies, the total acceptance of her point of view that she'd been expecting, had envisioned? That just didn't happen, and it was with sheer frustration she decided she could accomplish nothing more, at least not immediately. 

Well, the firm suggestion by the owner of the Cottage that she 'get the bloody hell out of my house and off my property, ye daft encroaching harridan!' might have had some little something to do with it, along with the snarl on Meghada's face.

She left, and although the car moved off slowly, carefully, somehow the indignation of the driver was as obvious as if the car had spun its wheels and shot away. 

Inside, the men sat around the table at the Cottage slowly sipping their coffee, avoiding each others' eyes, at least in the beginning. Finally, it all boiled out.

"'Peter Pan and The Lost Boys'?" Actor mused aloud, raising incredulous eyebows at the notion, thinking of that story Dr. Laura Garwood had given them as an 'apt description' of Garrison, his team. Indeed, as a description of EACH of the Special Forces teams she'd been observing so closely. He purposefully avoided any mention of that erroneous idea the woman had thrown out, that he and Garrison were on an intimate standing with each other. There were just too many buttons to be pushed by doing that, and there were other issues to deal with.

"Little boys!" Casino finally ground out. "Little boys playing games! Who the hell does she think she is?"

"Refusing to grow up?" Chief snorted. "Never given any other choice BUT to grow up! Growing up don't mean turning into whatever she thinks we should! We were what she thinks we should be, don't see us getting the job done! Aint that why we're out there doing all that, cause nobody else can?"

Goniff and Craig Garrison didn't comment, not yet. 

Garrison was still furious that Doctor Garwood had had the audacity to corner them, brace them like this. Well, he'd been expecting it, of course, after what he'd heard from the other team leaders, and from that strained first meeting between them. 

Still, to have Major Kingston issue the order for them to all report here this morning - for Dr. Garwood to walk up to Meghada's kitchen door, demand entrance. He was surprised she'd been allowed in, much less that Meghada had listened, not kicked her out, at least for awhile. After all, HE might have to listen, at least somewhat, due to Major Kingston's orders, but the Dragon didn't, not really.

Goniff was frowning down at the table, obviously deep in thought, trying to make all the pieces fit, and Garrison was doing much the same. They slowly raised their eyes, looked around the table at the men who were their brothers and more. Looked at each other, at the truths they saw in each other's eyes, then toward the stove where the one the doctor had sneeringly referred to as 'Tinker Bell' or sometimes 'Wendy, the mother figure to the Lost Boys', was calmly pulling off another pot of coffee, getting down the bottle of bourbon. They shared a quick smirk of anticipation, waiting for the inevitable reaction. That there would be one, they had no doubt; that it would be entertaining, that they didn't doubt either.

Meghada turned, sat the pot and the bottle in the middle of the table, reached around for glasses. There was a frown on her face as well, equally as thoughtful as the one that had been on their pickpocket's face earlier.

"I don't know; I suppose it has some extremely superficial merit, if you're really, REALLY strained for comparisons," she admitted slowly, "though for such a highly-educated person, it is surprising that she should be so very limited in the scope of her reading if that was the best she could come up with. So much the cliché! Although 'Peter Pan' was never one of my favorites, I must admit, so I don't know if I'm remembering it all just right. James Barrie seemed, well, so very conflicted. I was never sure if he pitied Peter and the Boys, envied them or resented them - I wonder if HE knew, really. And his feelings about Tinker Bell and Wendy and Mrs. Darling and Tiger Lily - indeed, all of his female characters - I found an equal amount of pity, envy and resentment there as well - so complicated!"

Meghada gave a snort of amusement. "Probably better than if she'd selected 'Eight Cousins' or 'Jo's Boys', I suppose, but not by a hell of a lot! Well, look on the bright side - at least she didn't select 'The Five Little Peppers' or 'Little Women'!"

That got a snort of amusement from some, an offended look from others.

Actor looked acutely interested suddenly - well, the O'Donnell women DID look at things at rather a slant sometimes. 

"Well, what would YOU have selected?"

Goniff cringed, just a little, and Garrison really, really wished Actor hadn't asked that question. Who KNEW what the redhead would come up with??! Yeah, he'd be interested in the answer, had intended to ask her, but later - not necessarily in front of his team!

"Oh, I can think of several that might apply in some small manner or another, bits and pieces anyway. 'The Lord of the Rings' and the accompanying books, certainly. 'The Iliad', 'The Odyssey'. 'The Three Musketeers'. 'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn', perhaps, even 'The Jungle Book' if you look at the characters with a bit of a squint. 'The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe'. 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' would get some consideration, perhaps some of the stories from 'The Arabian Nights', some of the early classic samurai stories, and some of Wodehouse, at least in parts."

Actor was taken aback, but Garrison was relieved. {"Nothing TOO untoward in there, anyway! And she's right; all COULD apply, at least in one way or another."}. 

Goniff kind of liked the idea of 'The Lord of the Rings' being included; he was secretly fond of Bilbo and his adventures. Chief and Casino? Who knows, though both thought they just might see if any of those were in the big library up at the Mansion; couldn't know if they should be pleased or offended til they took a good look.

Meghada chuckled then, and shook her head in wry amusement.

"And, that notion of hers that I have a 'deviant split-personality', delusional, probably dangerous, striving to be 'part mythical warrior-priestess and part maternal diety', both 'equally destructive' to all of you. That seems a rather strong way of putting things. Of course, there is also her insistence that my being 'mother' to you all is a way of justifying my 'continued suppression' of my own 'sexual, or hyper-sexual, or perhaps asexual, persona'. Almost makes me think I should see a psychologist of my own, try to sort it all out - either that or rent a store-front and start a new cult-religion, you know. Could become quite popular, I'd think - a little something for everyone."

From the look on her face, she wasn't seriously considering either alternative. Garrison was relieved at that. The first would drive any psychologist she spoke with to seek out his OWN psychologist, and the latter? That might just prove TOO successful for his peace of mind!

"Hey, Mom! Ya got anything to eat around here? Can't let your 'kids' starve to death," Casino proclaimed, though the humor in his voice was at an all-time low. "Surprised you've put it off this long; figure the Limey here must be about to drop from lack of nourishment. Been at least two hours since he ate, ya know."

She chuckled and obediently trod the few steps to the pantry to pull out a tin of thick walnut biscuits, and after consideration, another of savory scones left by Alice Miller. Setting the bounty down on the table in front of them, along with butter and cream cheese, saucers, napkins and the rest, she took her seat with a thoughtful frown.

"But I have to say, I can't quite see it - 'Tinker Bell', I mean. Far too sturdy built, I am, for one thing - hardly a little wisp of a thing. And can't see giving up my blades and pistols and such for a pretty little wand and a pocketful of stardust - not much ammunition for a mythical warrior-priestess."

"Got to say, I prefer that to 'Wendy, the mother figure' idea," Goniff said with a sly look of amusement, one she returned. "OR about the Lieutenant 'ere being a 'father figure'. Never mind you two being younger than any of us, except for Chiefy, there's just something 'off' about that whole notion, don't you think? Enough to put a person purely off their stroke, more'n likely, just thinking about it all."

Garrison got strangled over his drink while going into a coughing spell that was only exacerbated by the laughter he could no longer control, and soon the others joined him. No, it wasn't funny that they were being observed, but oh boy! The conclusions that Dr. Garwood had come up with? Yeah, there was more than a little humor there.

A little, maybe. They thought about that at various times over the next couple of weeks, while at the Mansion and while on that little excursion to France, and the more they thought about it, the less humor they found, the more the annoyance grew.

At least, it was annoying Goniff and Garrison quite a bit, and probably Actor as well, and Meghada was more than a little unhappy about that.

Well, Actor she wasn't all that concerned about. So sue her - the man had an ego big enough to cope. Craig and Goniff, though, that they were bothered, and on a deeper level, that DID concern her.

"Know it shouldn't, maybe," Goniff said with a faintly sheepish smile. "But, it's like - I don't know. Like Actor's stealing part of w'at's mine."

Garrison grimaced. "That doesn't make sense, I know, but I feel the same. That somehow Actor's intruding on something, trying to claim something that's ours, not his, even though he ISN'T, not really. He hasn't done anything out of the way; is going out of his way to make that very clear, in fact. That's all HER idea, not his."

"True enough, it's hardly his fault. And though I'm not usually sorry for Actor, still, the warn-off glares he's likely been getting from the pair of you are probably starting to leave little scorch marks. Along with the little scrapes and bruises he's getting from all the teasing from Chief and Casino, of course. Are they giving YOU a hard time too? I've not seen it, but I've not been around so much."

"Nah, Chiefy knows not to, and 'e's leading Casino for now. Still, don't like it," Goniff admitted.

"Me either, and it's not healthy. The damnable thing is, all she was spouting off about being too close, all of us, about it being dangerous to the job? I think this is a lot MORE dangerous, the side-eye we seem to keep giving each other now, wondering if we're overreacting, or maybe holding back from the proper reaction because of how it might look, to each other or to some observer. The hell with double-guessing ourselves and each other - I think we're all triple-guessing now and more" Garrison said in a disgruntled tone.

"Well, how is Actor dealing? Oh, let me guess! Cool aloof superiority, along with a hearty helping of amused disdain salted with moral outrage for such ill-advised and ill-disposed rumor mongering, much less the audacity of anyone thinking to lecture HIM on anything!?"

Garrison and Goniff shared a rueful laugh. That was their teammate, alright.

"That's right on the nose. If he had his nose tilted back any farther, he'd drown if there was a sudden downpour!" Garrison admitted. "But, other than that, his public pose, he just seems to be trying to ignore it all."

"I suppose the question is whether you can be satisfied with the reality, can forego the visual for now. It seems as if you could; after all, you were doing well enough with it BEFORE the good doctor showed up on her broomstick. What's changed, really?" Meghada asked. "WE all know what's what, after all."

That got them thinking, and they had to admit, nothing really HAD changed. THEY knew the truth of things - they'd not been able to display that before, except in select company and in certain situations, no more than they could now. They'd made themselves content with that before; they'd make themselves content with it now. 

Still, knowing they were likely being observed meant there was damned little private time for them - the best they'd been able to manage was this conversation with Meghada in Garrison's office with the door shut. Visits to the Cottage seemed more risky than usual, for both men, and Meghada being gone so much removed any easy excuse they might have. And it wasn't just the more intimate interaction they missed - it was the being able to just talk freely, relax and listen to music or discuss the latest book Meghada had brought home, have a quiet drink together, enjoy a meal together - just the freedom to BE, together, in comfort and at their ease. They'd become accustomed to that, the three of them, and resented Dr. Garwood interferring with that now in addition to all the rest.

Dr. Garwood was there when they got back from that mission to Norway, still trailing them around, still showing up to stick her nose in where it wasn't wanted or needed. Garrison was at his wits end, Goniff was pissed, and Meghada? She was getting a look that had every man on the team laying bets on when she'd decided enough was enough. 

THEY had ALREADY decided that, and had taken to discussing possible solutions in their unoccupied moments. Garrison was starting to catch bits and pieces of that, enough to make him more than a little uneasy. They hadn't brought up the idea of shangai'ing the good doctor, like Reynolds, but he figured the notion, or something similar, would come to the surface sooner or later.

The day came when Garrison caught them brainstorming, with Chief offering to 'deal with the problem', and the other guys looking more than a little interested in taking him up on that offer.

"Takes the way through Barrow Street to get back to her place; not bad, but still, even the best neighborhoods have got their weak points. Dark in some spots, damp, all those cobblestones, rim on the gutters through there kinda high and unstable; could have an accident. Nothing permanent, just enough to get her mind on her own damned business maybe." 

That was a little harsh, true, but then, they were all fed up with the persistent Dr. Garwood. Not even Casino was impressed enough with her assets, nice though they were, to overlook her drawbacks, not past that first meeting.

"No," Garrison said flatly from the doorway. "You are NOT dealing with the 'problem'. None of you are dealing with Dr. Garwood, not unless you have something a lot better than THAT in mind!" looking at the knife Chief had just thrown hard, piercing into the paneling on the side wall. The hilt was still quivering, seeming to express their joint outrage.

"Yes, I agree that is hardly the solution," Actor admitted, "although there is something highly cathartic in at least the considering, Craig. However, there might be another way. Perhaps I could approach her, get to know her a little better, perhaps convince her to take a more amenable view of us, of the teams in general."

"You gonna shag 'er til she's too worn out to bother us anymore, Actor? Or maybe just romance 'er with reciting some of your fancy poetry, along with feeding 'er toast points and fish eggs til she's 'ead over 'eels and willing to leave us alone in order to make you 'appy? Know you say you're good, but are you THAT good??" Goniff snarked, with a wicked grin. (He figured HE was, the first part anyway, though he had no inclination toward the fish eggs slope, but for his part, he'd rather bed a tarantula. Doing your patriotic duty was one thing, but that was going overboard!)

"Not a bad notion, Beautiful. Maybe you can take a leave of absence, take her on a world tour or something, get her outta our hair for awhile. Maybe til a few years after the war, huh?" Casino offered, taking a deep swallow from his glass. It was saying something about how ticked off he was that he didn't offer to use HIS masculine charms and skills to convince the woman to lay off. He wasn't thinking 'tarantula' - nah, to his way of thinking, that would have been way too flattering a description.

Garrison walked over, poured himself a drink from the bottle on the table, another for the newcomer standing in the doorway. 

"They're joking, Meghada," he assured her, handing her one glass, giving his men a stern look, silently telling them NOT to contradict him on that score, noting the sly looks he was getting in return.

"Yes, of course they are, Craig." Meghada's lips twitched as she surveyed the men facing her. Maybe the rest were, but she was pretty sure Actor wasn't; he really WAS that self-confident. And frankly, she wasn't all that sure about the others; Chief did have a deep burn in the back of his dark eyes.

"But for now, perhaps you should focus on the next assignment HQ has for you. Something a bit different, or so it seems; I'm told it should be almost like a little vacation," she said, waiting for the groans and moans to fill the air. Yes, they'd heard that before!

"And you? What are you gonna be doing while we're on this 'little vacation'?" Casino demanded. "Maybe something to get that hyena off our heels? Thought you'd have managed it by now!" he said, glancing over at Goniff with a smirk, thereby missing that little moue of knowing satisfaction on the redhead's face. "Just in case all the commotion starts putting the little Limey here 'off his stroke', ya know, like he said. Hate to see that happen!" 

There was a quick rejoinder from Goniff. "And you aint likely TO see that 'appening, neither! Wouldn't, in any case, 'aving a bit more control in that department than SOME I might mention. And, don't figure anyone's gonna be too 'appy you start going around peeking in windows just to find out, Casino, so you just might want to keep that in mind!"

Meghada grinned at that, but before the exchange could erupt into a full-blown argument, she answered Casino's question easily enough.

"Me, Casino? I'll have you know I've been told quite firmly to keep myself out of the business, and you KNOW how I am about following orders," she nodded with mock sincerity as she poured herself another drink. 

She watched them serenely as the general hilarity at that statement improved the mood in the room considerably. 

Yes, she had something in mind, and if it didn't get Dr. Garwood off their backs, well, she was up for taking even stronger measures. After all, what was it the good doctor had called her? A combination mythical warrior-priestess and a maternal diety? Surely that combination would be able to come up with SOMETHING appropriate if it were needful. 

But still, she intended to start with something fairly subtle, something low-key. After all, she HAD promised Kevin Richards she would work on that. Of course, she admitted she had but an uncertain grasp of the whole concept of subtlety - it truly was NOT a Clan trait; still, she was willing to give it a try.

Ben Miller looked on disapprovingly as the lady doctor from London made her way resolutely through the metal gate, then through the kitchen door he had reluctantly unlocked for her. 

"Don't much like this, Miss, I mean, Doctor Garwood. Private property this is, and the O'Donnell Miss some particular about strangers being about. Has a strong liking for her privacy."

"Hmmmph! I suppose she does, and for good reason, I imagine," came the snide reply. "However, as I told you, she reports to the military, and I have their backing in this. AND, you are NOT to tell her I was here, do you understand me, Constable?" she said firmly. "This is strictly confidential!"

"Oh, I understand. Well, no, not really, not as to the why, but I get your meaning well enough. I'll leave you to it then; I'll be outside. Best not get too nosy inside. I'd keep my hands off what you've no need to be touching, if I were you. Right sensitive she is about that, and probably will pick up on it right fast and coming ripping up at me, charging trespass and all. And mind you keep your hands out of those berries on the kitchen table! Just picked them, she did, this morning, and has a special recipe in mind, or so she told my Alice! Be right annoyed if she ran up short of her measuring, I expect" he warned her. "Says it's a tricky one, easily gone amiss if it's not done right to the feather-weight."

She glared at him as he stepped out and away, closing the door behind him, {"impertinent man!"} and hurried to fit the cameras and tape machines where she thought they'd do the most good. Luckily this cottage and the other two were small, and the angles of the garden easily captured as well. It was with an air of defiance she grabbed a few ripe berries on each trip through the kitchen, savouring the sweet tart flavor on her tongue. So the young woman would come up a little short for her recipe! Served her right!

The return trip, three weeks later, she was back, based on word from her local (if reluctant) informant about recent activity at the cottage, was much a repeat, even to the warning, even stricter this time, about the fresh berries. 

"Not easy to come by, those! Something more special than most, from what I hear!" the constable had told her with a firm nod.

{"Really! By the time this is over, that young woman will have much more to be concerned about than one of her recipes being shorted!"} 

Dr. Garwood retrieved her cameras and the audio equipment, erased every trace of her having been there, and this time took the time to eat a goodly HALF of those succulent berries - a different type this time, a dazzling glossy amethyst color she'd not seen before in any fruit. They really WERE tasty, she had to admit. If the doctor had been on better terms with the O'Donnell woman, she'd have called back to ask the variety, to see if there was a source in London. Yes, MOST tasty, and quite unlike anything she'd ever tried before. 

{"One could get quite addicted, in fact,"} she thought as she dumped the rest of the bowl into a jar to take with her as a snack. {"So, see what she makes of THAT!!!"} Dr. Garwood thought with some malicious satisfaction, even removing the now-empty bowl and tucking it into the back of a cabinet out of sight.

The trip back to London was slower than usual, due to a variety of reasons, and her frustration at finding herself called away immediately upon her arrival was considerable. 

Still, she had a ready assistant in a young attendant in the film department who had volunteered to help, and she left the film in his capable hands. He'd promised her an outline by the time she returned, if not before, a dialogue to go with what was shown on the film. All of that was to the good, since her vision, faulty at best, deplorable for the past several days, would have made that near impossible for her to manage for herself. 

And as far as the research for the proper terminology, why, she wasn't quite sure how she would have gone about it, considering the update he'd given her by phone the following day. Even HE, a grown man, was obviously most uncomfortable with what he'd found on that film, the range of activities and interactions. SHE certainly wouldn't have been able to put specific terms to all of that, had been unaware there even WERE specific terms for some of what he'd described, that some of that was even POSSIBLE! 

She returned to London, her vision at its worst ever, though the doctor she had consulted while she was away could find nothing physically wrong. 

The young film assistant had everything ready, however, and she quickly arranged by phone for the demonstration she and Major Kingston had discussed. That young man was so VERY helpful! She was giving serious consideration to taking him on as her permanent assistant. Why, he'd even found a source for those delicious amethyst berries she'd so recently become so fond of! She found herself munching on them throughout the day and evening as she prepared for the next day's presentation.

Dr. Laura Garwood was as puffed up as a pouter pidgeon, or maybe a puffer fish. She had done it! In spite of all the doubt, all the opposition, even interference, even that personal complication, she had the proof, all she needed to convince the committee. 

Soon, thanks to her, there would be a total revamping of the Special Forces teams, a total change of leadership, a new structure and code of discipline that would turn them from a disorganized rabble into lean, effective, proper members of the military! 

Well, either that, or back as members of regular military units, or, for Garrison's hooligans, properly-confined guests of the prison system, one or the other, INCLUDING their team leaders! After all, it was all really up to them and how much they were willing to change their ways!

One quick word told her the film projector had been put in place, and she cleared her throat to get the attention of those gathered.

"Gentlemen, my goal was to investigate the structure and viability of the Special Forces teams as they currently stand. While the teams have had some level of success, I must admit, ANY operation could say the same. A honeymoon period is only to be expected of any new venture, obviously. However, the only possible long-term success of any project depends on something other than force and novelty. 

"As it was expressed to me by Major Kingston," and she gave a brief nod of acknowledgement in what she'd been told was his direction, (an acknowledgement he could have just as well done without, from the startled look on his face - he really preferred not be be outted as either a partner or an instigator of this until he was certain it was a success), "there existed, in his view, an underlying unstable foundation to those teams, and to the relationships formed between the team members. 

"There was also the question of the team leaders - whether they were maintaining the distance necessary to properly lead those teams, or whether they had lost their objectivity and become no more than an adjunct to the other members - a leader in name only at best, a dupe, or even an ally at the worst level.

"Although there had been rumors about the Special Forces teams and their leaders before, about their underlying dysfunctionality and unhealthy nature, nothing had ever been proven, in concrete terms with concrete evidence. I realize there were some doubts expressed, that the things being reported could not possibly be true, and they certainly had never been documented before. 

"That has now changed with my indepth investigation into one team in particular. While the research was primarily of that team, the one known as Garrison's Gorillas, in my express opinion the decay runs across the board. The utter unsuitability, the depths to which these men, these teams, have fallen, makes it imperative that firm corrective action be taken, and taken quickly."

There were various hands raised, which she'd couldn't see, but she could hear the questions being spoken, but she shook her head and smiled. She refused to show weakness by acknowledging her vagueness, well, her near-absence of vision, thinking it would lessen the impact of what she had to show them. No, they need never know, and her vision would be back to normal soon, surely. For now, the young film attendant had gotten her into position, would handle everything. (Those had been his exact words, in fact, "don't you worry, Doctor. I'll handle everything. You just listen for me, for my signal as the film moves along so you know where you are in the narration, and it will all go splendidly!")

"No, I think it best you see what I have brought to show you. THEN I will answer any questions you wish. I will narrate and provide background as we go along. Please be prepared to be taken far beyond your comfort zone, and please forgive my frankness, even vulgarity of speech. There is simply no recourse, as you will see. I am sure you will find all of this most shocking, as did I. Sergeant, dim the lights, please."

There was a short pause and a stutter as the film started, a lovely small cottage, surrounded by gardens, a stone wall with a metal gate beckoning you forward. Bluebirds and butterflies darted here and there, a truly delightful sight, one the fat bunnies and kittens playing in the grass only added to.

"I obtained the cooperation of the local constabulary in my endeavors, knowing I would hardly have been given freedom of the place otherwise. During the owner's absence, I had cameras and audio equipment installed in various locations around the property - the three cottages, the gardens and surrounding areas. While, unfortunately, the audio failed for some reason, the film is quite clear and quite conclusive."

There was a murmur of disapproval, as well as confusion. She understood the first, though the second she found rather bewildering. She hurried to reassure them of her professional intentions.

"Yes, under any other circumstances, I would have never countenanced such surreptitious actions. However, the owner, a Miss O'Donnell, a young woman who sometimes acts as an agent for the military - I believe she is known as The Dragon - would not have been inclined to be helpful, since, quite deplorably, she was as involved in the inappropriate behavior as the men in question. Indeed, it is my opinion that she actively encourages them, even participates freely, for whatever purpose she might have, other than the most licentious ones as displayed here."

The audience took another incredulous look at the screen, now showing the inside of the colorful cottage, bright and cheerful, and as sweet and innocent as you could ever imagine. 

The actions now taking place throughout the cottage were certainly bright, sprightly even, though perhaps cheerful wasn't the most apt description, and there wasn't anything even faintly sweet or innocent about the events being played out before them. 

Dr. Garwood wore a serious look throughout her narration, her face stern and academic. Although the actions on the screen truly were appalling to those sitting and watching (or at least they tried to make it APPEAR they found it all totally appalling), she maintained the demeanor and attitude of a strictly-scientific observer. 

While some of the activities appearing before them, all in color, from a variety of angles, and with no detail spared, would have taxed most women, even some quite-worldly men to articulate, Dr. Garwood forced herself to the task. Actually, she'd had to spend considerable time memorizing the proper words given to her by her young film assistant to describe some of that interaction.

Frankly, even the most jaded in the audience were startled at the variety of activities and interactions being happily displayed in all their glory by the energetic figures on the screen. 

And as far as Dr. Garwood's narration, her dry and academic tone while describing those activities! Well, that was really something they had not been expecting - some of the words and phrases she was using were hardly the, well, 'formal' ones one might expect, if there even were such things, but rather ones you'd expect to find in certain select books of ill-repute. 

For those who personally knew Lieutenant Garrison and the men of his team, it was particularly enthralling, though even those who only knew them by reputation were certainly affected as well. She was quite clear with their names, after all, who was appearing in each 'episode', so there should be no doubt in anyone's mind as to their identity.

After listening to her describe the energetic, even acrobatic, exchanges between the three participants on the screen, then having her go on so smoothly to outline the activities between a grouping of a slightly different makeup, this time with four participants, Major Kevin Richards thought he just might break something inside from trying not to laugh. 

{"How she can stand there, and so calmly . . . .!!!"}. Where on earth that film had come from, he had no idea, though he might privately venture a guess or two. But WHY the good doctor was doing this? Why she was assigning those names to the participants - Craig Garrison, Actor, Casino, Chief, Goniff, along with Meghada O'Donnell - he TRULY had no notion! It seemed quite unbelievable to him that she would have even considered such a thing! 

Finally, when the film came to a shuddering halt, freezing on that last incredible scene, now displayed in all its motionless priapic glory - for no one had attempted to stop the film or tried to stop her lecture before then - Colonel Patterson cleared his throat awkwardly. 

"Yes, well, Dr. Garwood. That was quite - um - amusing, if in slightly, um, questionable taste. However, I, and several of the others, DO have a war to deal with. Perhaps you might NOW present the evidence you say you have against one of the Special Forces teams, evidence to back up your suggestions for realignment and a great deal more?"

Dr. Garwood frowned, stepped forward, squinting to identify the speaker, but was unable to do so except by voice. Her vision was STILL not back to normal, really only the faintest of light was showing through the narrow slit of her eyelids behind her tinted glasses, and that in the most astounding of colors and patterns. Ever since she'd retrieved the film, her vision had been faulty in the extreme, even to now requiring a hired driver.

She'd been lucky that young assistant had been willing and able to help her put together the narration of the film; she had such a narrow window of opportunity for getting everything in place. 

Of course, the young man had been very hesitant, awkward even, at first unwilling to even articulate what the film showed, as he said "out of concern for you being a woman, you see,", but after she'd assured him she would not be shocked, or if she was, certainly would not blame HIM, he'd been most helpful in both the research and the timing of her narration to the deplorable activities being shown. He'd even suggested that faint tap of his pencil against the desk to indicate the change from one scene to the next, a coded prompting on occasion, so that her narration and the film coordinated neatly. A most capable young man, certainly.

"Amusing? You found that libidinous display amusing? The sexual impropriety of even the least of those encounters should be more than enough to convince you, especially with the team leader seemingly 'leading' the way there as well!!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"Team leader, Dr. Garwood? Would that have been Pluto The Dog, or was Popeye The Sailor the leader of the group? I have to admit it was difficult to say; both seemed equally 'commanding'. Tom and Jerry and Daffy seemed to be followers, not leaders, of course, though most eager, certainly, quite involved. And Donald Duck - you didn't mention who HE was supposed to represent, or the various others. HE seemed to be more the voyeur, anyway, at least in the beginning, though he did get inspired toward the end, I suppose - no pun intended, naturally. Of course, if, as you say, Betty Boop was supposed to be 'The Dragon', I'll admit I'm not sure she would appreciate that, you know; her sense of humor is not the best. Actually, Doctor, I was unaware the area of color animated cartoons had expanded to include those of such a pornographic nature," Colonel Patterson admitted dryly, to the rustle of subdued laughter coming from the other men seated in the room.

Dr. Garwood squealed in dismay and dashed forward, standing only inches from the screen, now, for the first time, getting at least a vague sight of what was there in all its glory - a full nine or ten cartoon characters, frozen, yet obviously in the midst of having a totally unrestrained orgy, enough most of them would have probably been on bed rest for several days thereafter, some perhaps needing to be in traction! 

All her protestations that she had been tricked, misled, lied to - none of that much impressed those in attendance. The film assistant was long gone, and no one would admit to having seen him leave or really having ever seen him before. 

Major Kingston left before she could appeal to him for support; he only hoped, to no avail, that the acknowledgement she'd given him before would be overlooked in the overall hilarity of that obscene display. Triumph he was more than glad to share; total humiliation was something quite different! 

He made it a point, as soon as he reached his office, to start the wheels turning to make sure Dr. Laura Garwood was soon gone and forgotten, never to remind anyone of his involvement in this debacle, never. His job, his mission, his ego and self-image simply couldn't tolerate that!

Two days later - Office of Dr. Laura Garwood (temporarily, at least, though the nameplate had already been removed):

As she boxed up her remaining belongings, she felt the chill in the room. Obviously no one felt it necessary to keep the heat on when the sole occupant would be leaving so quickly. In the background, a faint noise irritated her already-agitated senses. 

She checked the file cabinet one last time, aware that the noise was getting louder, becoming more and more prominent. Tick-tock . . . tick-tock . . . tick-tock. Her eyes flew to the clock on the wall, and she sighed with relief. Just the clock, ticking the seconds away, nothing to worry about. Why it was bothering her now when it never had before she didn't pause to consider.

Pulling her purse from the bottom drawer of her now-empty desk, she debated calling for the MP outside to carry the box down to her car, but firmed her mouth and decided against it. No, if she was leaving, she'd do it herself! 

Tick-tock . . . Tick-tock . . . TICK-TOCK . . TICK-TOCK! . TICK-TOCK!! Louder and louder, closer and closer, faster and faster, and her heartbeat, her breathing seemed to quicken in response.

She shuddered as she picked up the box and made her way to the door, wondering why the thing uppermost in her mind, at least at this moment, was the wide, cold, toothy smile that had been on Major Kingston's face as he watched her depart that room where she'd been given her congé by Dr. Cunningham. No, he hadn't been IN the meeting when she'd been so abruptly told that her services were no longer needed; he'd waited in an office across the way, down the hall, emerging only in the aftermath to watch her silently make her way past.

Tick-tock . . . Tick-tock. {"TICK-TOCK!!! Of course!!!"}

And she groaned to herself, that she hadn't recognized him before, though he should have been easy to recognize. If she had recognized the others so easily - Peter, the Lost Boys, Wendy who was also Tinker Bell - why hadn't she recognized HIM??! And a tiny whimper caught in her throat. 

{"It's not fair! NOT FAIR!! I was to be the narrator, not Captain Hook!!! Who the hell is directing this production, anyway??!"} 

Dr. Laura Garwood quickly made her escape down the hall, out the door, and toward her waiting car. She could feel the cold smile of Tick-Tock, the crocodile, at her shoulder, coming ever nearer. By the time she reached the car she was half-way running, sobbing as she frantically tried to reach safety.

The onlookers on the street stared after the young woman, watched as she threw the box into the back seat, hurriedly got in, closed and locked the door, and sped off.

"You'd think someone was achasin' her, wouldn't you, Edna?" 

Edna shook her head in disapproval, "hardly the thing, dashing down the sidewalk, knocking into folks. Gonna come to a bad end, doing things like that!"

The Mansion:  
"How DID you manage it, Lieutenant? You obviously have resources far beyond what I might have thought. And that young film assistant who prepared the outline, the dialogue, the one no one can quite place, now, in the aftermath. Who might he have been?"

"Major, I assure you, I had nothing to do with it," Garrison protested, still shellshocked from the description Richards had given him of that outrageous cartoon film. {"Betty Boop, Tom and Jerry, Popeye, Donald Duck, Pluto and several others, happily participating in what amounted to a Byzantine orgy! Sounds like Casino's style, but I don't think HE has the resources either!"}

Richards sighed in rueful resignation. "Well, if you say so, Lieutenant Garrison. And then there's the matter of Dr. Garwood's mysterious vision failure, a malady that cleared up only a couple of days later. The doctors said it was possibly something she ingested, since she swore she'd had no injuries that might account for it. Without that, you know, she'd have seen the difficulty with the film right away - indeed, would have had no need for that ever-so-convenient film assistant in the first place. Well, I doubt she'll have much need for an assistant anytime soon; I understand she's been sent back to her university in disgrace."

Garrison poured out another splash of whiskey into each of their glasses, then snickered quietly.

"It serves her right, you know, forcing Ben Miller to let her into Meghada's place. Setting up cameras, for Pete's sake! Bad enough targeting the teams, and I understand Major Kingston was encouraging her in that nonsense, but bringing Meghada into the mix??! How stupid was that??!"

He frowned thoughtfully, blinked, looked at Richards who had the oddest smile on his face.

"Yes, in a way it DOES serve her right. Something she ingested - I wonder where she might have picked up something that would cause her vision to fail like that? Very serendipitous, don't you agree?"

Garrison dropped his head back, closed his eyes tightly and groaned, "very! Sometimes, Major, I think even if I survive this war, my mind just might not!" {"And to think I was worried about what the GUYS might come up with!"}

Richards was surprised into a burst of laughter. "Welcome to the club, Lieutenant. I've been saying that ever since I met the family and that's been years now! However, on the positive side, this does show at least some progress in the overall goal of attaining a greater level of subtlety, don't you think?"

The look he was getting from Craig Garrison told him the lieutenant didn't really think there had been all THAT much progress!

And in the Common Room, a projector was running quietly, and there wasn't a sound from any of the four men watching the amazing activity being laid out in all its glory.

"Cooooo!" Goniff breathed when it was over. "Makes me want a cold shower, you know??!"

"Yeah, you wouldn't think it would, but somehow . . ." Casino admitted, drawing on his cigarette like he was going to finish it in one deep breath.

Chief frowned, "wouldn't think Popeye and the duck would team up, especially with that cat? And what the hell was that mouse doing? That seem odd to any of you?"

Actor looked at all three of them, pure superior scorn in his aristocratic face. 

"Really! Are you not getting a little 'involved' for them being only animated cartoon characters? How on earth could you find that stimulating??!" 

That started the argument which lasted for at least another twenty minutes or so, which was just fine as far as the tall Italian was concerned. He had no interest whatsoever in standing up until his own 'interest' subsided. 

And that was delayed even longer when Garrison and Richards made their way to the Common Room, and Richards insisted on running through the whole film again, just to point out to Garrison some of the more entertaining highlights, along with a commentary as to the audience reaction to the narration. 

At this rate, they were going to be stuck around that table the rest of the night, and heaven knows what Gil Rawlins was going to say about the excess water consumption involved in all those cold showers!


End file.
